Date: Tue, 12 Mar 2002 23:04:47 -0000
From: Tris
Subject: Under Management Chapter 6
Author's Note:
Hey everyone, this is my first submission to the Nifty Archive. I hope you
enjoy reading it as much as I am writing it. I'm trying to get as much
realism as is possible in a story of this type, so the characters will need
to get to know each other before there is any sex. It's also not exactly a
'two guys fall in love, and live happily ever after' story, there are going
to be a few bumps in the road.
If you have any comments or criticisms or whatever then e-mail me:
mystories@btinternet.com
Disclaimer:
This story is a work of fiction. I don't know or own any of the celebrities
mentioned in it. I also don't know anything about the personalities or
sexual orientations of any of the members of *NSYNC, and the purpose of
this story is not to imply anything about them. Secondly, this story
contains adult themes and content as well as gay relationships. If you're
too young to, or don't want to, read what's contained within, then leave
now. Everyone else, enjoy...
Under Management by Tris
Chapter 6
I sat in the dark, on my couch, watching a muted television re-run of one
of the original Star Trek episodes. My right leg had fallen asleep long
ago. The circulation was cut off by the weight of Lance's head, which was
resting in my lap. He had sobbed continuously for several hours earlier in
the day. As I didn't know what to do with him, and I didn't particularly
want to leave him in the state he was in on his own, I brought him back to
my place. Around lunch time he had pulled himself together, yet he refused
to eat anything. So I sat next to him and ate microwaved frozen pizza,
watching him watch the TV. Not a word was spoken between us for the longest
of times; I said nothing as I was afraid anything I might say would start
him crying again. I suspect that he said nothing because, well, perhaps it
was for the same reason that he gave for crying, 'Just because...' he had
explained.
I had become bored of doing nothing sometime during the early evening, and
had relocated to my office where I worked for nearly half an hour. The
reason I didn't continue for longer was that Lance had interrupted and
asked me to talk. That is exactly what we did, actually he did most of the
talking, I simply offered a sympathetic ear.
He told me all about the bands history. He explained the problems that they
had had in the beginning. He and Justin had to be tutored on the road. They
had missed out on high school. Lance in particular had felt out of place,
Joey and Chris were on the same wave length, and were older with more
experience. JC and Justin had formed a very special bond, long before they
had even considered being in a boy-band. Then there was Lance, he received
a phone call out of the blue, and moved to Florida in the pursuit of a
dream, and with a hell of a lot of work and (even Lance admitted) a portion
of luck, that dream was realized.
I looked down at my sleeping friend, he appeared so innocent, seeing the
pain on his tear streaked face made me want to cry as well.
During our talk Lance had explained how he had been shy and reserved and
how the other guys had brought him out of himself. They had made him a
different person, in his own words, 'They made Lance, in those first few
months together they changed me from James, the timid county boy, into
Lance, one of the guys.' He went into great detail explaining the amount
of work they had to do to make their group successful. He smiled as he
explained how he formed a great friendship with Justin, and frowned when he
remembered one of the first problems they had encountered as a group.
Once they had begun to build their fan base, and had found the style of
music that suited them they came under heavy fire from the media. 'They
thought we were copying the Backstreet Boys, they were popular, we were
doing something similar. Everyone thought we were trying to get famous off
their backs.' He had said. The things which he told me next obviously
pained him, and yet as he said them his presence grew, as though a weight
was being lifted. 'Justin was still very young and naive,' Lance had told
me. 'Justin began to despise Backstreet, he blamed them for the media
onslaught. I came up with the bright idea of visiting them, just me and
Justin, so we could get to know them better, and so that Justin could see
it wasn't their fault.' He then went on to tell me all of the trouble he
went to getting him and Justin time off, and getting them access to a
Backstreet tour. He told me how nice they were to them for the two weeks of
their stay. How Justin had become friends with them and how he had
discovered his sexuality.
'The first time I really talked to Nick was in his and Brian's dressing
room.' He remembered. 'I don't know where Brian was... I only know he
wasn't there. Nick and I had this conversation about nothing in
particular. He was getting changed into his stage costume, and thought
nothing of stripping in front of me. I mean, he turned away when it came to
his underwear. But I got a good look at his ass...' Lance had
blushed. '...I'll skip ahead. So Nick changed and I... uh... enjoyed it.'
He had said, glancing at his crotch, causing me to giggle. 'I don't think
Nick noticed, but it got me worried. You know... having that reaction to a
guy... it got me thinking and it made me talk to Nick more.' He explained
how they quickly became friends and then he broke down into tears. 'It was
the day that Justin and I left.' He cried. 'I realized I was in love with
Nick... I was in love with a guy... and that... that made me gay.' He had
cried uncontrollably. That was when I led him to the couch and sat him down
next to me, holding him tightly in my arms to comfort him.
I slid myself out from under Lance's legs. I took a blanket and pillow from
the closet and made sure that Lance was comfortable. I went to my own
bedroom, and had to fight to control my own tears, 'After everything
they've been through together, how can they just desert him like this?' I
asked myself. It was difficult to get to sleep that night. I think the
eventual reason for me nodding off was the thought that I had to be rested
so that I could comfort Lance, because I was the only person he had.
***
The next day was not much better; Lance was silent most of the time,
communicating with grunts, although I did get him to eat lunch. I went out
for groceries after that, failing to convince Lance that he should come
with me. On the way back from the grocery, my thoughts turned to the future
of the band. It wasn't long before I wondered if there was a future. That
simple wondering sparked me into action. "They aren't splitting up. Not on
my watch." I said aloud. I pulled the car onto the sidewalk and considered
my options. I knew I had to talk to everyone. The only real positive
response that Lance had received was from Justin, so I headed to his house
first.
I drove with purpose and soon arrived at Justin's front gate, I remembered
the code to open it from my previous visit to his house, when Lance and I
brought him back in a drunken stupor. I pulled my car up next to Justin's
and walked briskly to the door. I rang the bell. Justin answered the door
and greeted me warmly. He invited me in and offered me a drink. I politely
declined. I followed him into his kitchen where he poured himself an orange
juice. "I thought I might see you today." He said with his back to me. "I
feel sort of guilty, you know... because I didn't do anything more than a
simple shoulder squeeze. I figured it was enough... it was all you did."
"He knew how I felt beforehand Justin... he knew I was alright with it."
"You knew?" He turned to face me; I could tell by the look on his face that
he was surprised.
"He told me on Saturday, and I kinda had it figured out before that." I
explained.
"W... Why did he tell you and not us, not me? And how did you figure it
out... is that the psychiatry thing?" He was upset.
"He told me because he was afraid you would react in the way you did..."
"I didn't react badly!" He defended.
"I meant you as in the entire group." I stated. Justin nodded in
acceptance. "I figured it out because... because..." I paused unsure of how
to continue. I took a deep breath and skirted around the issue. "It was
obvious, to an outsider who didn't just except Lance as being quiet and
thoughtful. It was obvious that there was something else. To you that was
Lance, and that was all there was to it." He nodded in understanding, and
then he became downcast.
"He doesn't know I accept him, does he? Maybe he thinks I was just being
sympathetic or maybe he doesn't even remember my reaction. I need to talk
to him, but... I don't think I can face him tonight. I need to think this
all through, I need to know what's going to happen to *NSYNC." He looked
up, staring right into my eyes. His face showed that he was more serious
than I had ever seen him before. "I have to talk to Josh."
With that, Justin walked out. He left me alone in his house. After the
initial shock of that had worn off, I ran to the front door, only to see
Justin's Mercedes screaming off down his driveway. I slammed the door
behind me and got into my car. I had made Justin see the error of his ways,
perhaps I could do the same to Chris.
***
"What gets me is that I don't even know why I reacted that way. I should've
been more supportive and I sure as hell shouldn't have let Josh say those
things. God my best friend is gay..." Chris continued. The second I walked
through his door he had apologized profusely for his actions. He said that
he was ashamed of reacting the way that he did. And so not much convincing
on my part was needed for him to stand by Lance, in fact none at all was
needed.
"Chris I'm sure you were just shocked, he surprised you. After all you've
been working with him, living around him and you've been his friend for
years. You would think each of you would know all of the other's
secrets... What I'm trying to say is that you need to stop feeling bad and
get over there and go cheer up Lance. He's the one that's hurting, not
you." I tried to get him to snap out of it.
"Are you sure he wants to see me? I would have thought that he would hate
me." Chris croaked out, finding that thought particularly hard to come to
terms with.
"He doesn't hate you Chris... he doesn't know what to think. More than
anything else Lance needs support, he needs people around him who can
appreciate what he is... who he is... and then not give it a second
thought." I explained for him.
"I'm not convinced." He stated stubbornly.
"You know I'm right Chris." Seeing that I would get no further, I decided
to help Lance in another way. "Chris have you talked to Joey?"
"No. Why?" came his response.
"Neither have I. I was wondering how he was dealing with all of this."
"Maybe I should go check on him." Chris said thoughtfully. I think he was
glad of an excuse to finish our conversation. He stood abruptly, "I'm going
to check on him right now. I'm worried about him." He said, not sounding in
the least bit worried. He showed me to the door, closing it behind us
both. He walked towards his car, I walked towards mine. When I sat down in
my seat, I had an almost comical thought - *NSYNC could be a three man
group, couldn't it?
***
Lance and I were sitting, cross-legged, next to each other on my bed. I was
holding an old family photo album. I found myself feeling genuinely happy
that I had made Lance laugh as much as he was. I flipped the page, and
giggled at the picture, "That was the first time I dyed my hair. It sort of
went wrong..." I tried to contain my laughter.
"What color was it supposed to be? Judging by your reaction - not green!"
He snickered.
"It was going to be blond stupid!" I pushed him playfully in the arm.
"Isn't it already blond?" He ruffled my hair, grinning.
"Get off my hair!" I exclaimed, swiping at his hand. "It was going to be
blonder, like yours'. Not this weird half brown, half blond combo that I've
got going on."
"Oh. Well I like it the way it is..."
"Thanks. So do I... at least, now I do." I told him. Our joking was
interrupted by the sound of my cell phone ringing. I sighed and stood. "You
know, I'm considering getting this thing disconnected. It's starting to
intrude on my life." I said to Lance as I walked into the lounge area to
locate my phone.
Once I had found it, I flipped open the cover and held it to my ear. Before
I could say anything, the person on the other end of the line began to
speak. "Hello Alex, I was wondering if you had a few minutes spare to give
me an update?" Johnny asked.
"Sure thing Johnny." I agreed. I walked back into the bedroom and answered
his preliminary questions. I covered the mouth piece with my hand and
informed Lance that I had to take the call. He nodded and continued to flip
through the photo album.
"You are making sure that they are writing aren't you? The only way I could
get the execs to agree to this break was that they would have a few more
songs to lay down by the end of it." Johnny interrogated me. I considered
lying to him, and saying 'Yes, they are getting lots written, everything's
fine...' but I chose not to. My reasoning was that he would find out at
some point anyway.
"Uh... the thing is Johnny. They've been having a few problems,
um... getting together and getting down to some serious work. You know,
last weekend was the first time that they've been able to relax in a
while. I think they just overindulged themselves." Ok, so I lied anyway,
but it wasn't as bad as what it could've been. Our conversation proceeded
in the same fashion for a few minutes. At some point I heard another cell
phone ring. I figured that it must've been Lance's.
I made my excuses and switched off my phone, but not after promising
Johnny, at least four times, that *NSYNC would have three new songs written
by the end of their fortnight off. I walked back into my bedroom, where I
presumed Lance was waiting. I was correct in my assumption.
Lance glanced up at me when he heard me enter, he was grinning, almost
manically. I looked at him with questioning eyes. "Chris and Joey rang;
they said they were shocked is all. I've got their votes." He stated
happily.
***
A head splitting ringing echoed throughout my bedroom. I slapped at my
alarm clock to try to stop it, but I didn't succeed. I cracked one eye open
slightly and tried to focus on the time, it read 03.38. "What the fuck?" I
muttered aloud as I sat up in bed. It was then that I figured out that it
wasn't the alarm clock making the noise, it was the phone on my bedside
table. I grabbed at it angrily.
"Hello?" I snapped.
"Alex. What the hell is going on with that band of yours?" Johnny yelled at
me down the phone.
"Uh?" I grunted unintelligibly.
"I just got a call from JC - he wants to leave the band!"
"Shit!" I exclaimed "Um... don't worry about it Johnny. I'm going over
there right now. I'll sort everything out." I spoke quickly into the phone,
as I hurriedly pulled on a pair of pants.
"You damn well better had, or you'll be fired so fast your..." He
screeched.
"It's fine. Forget this ever happened, go back to sleep. It's all under
control." I tried to convince him. I slammed the phone down on Johnny,
ignoring all of the expletives he was shouting at me. I pulled out the
first shirt I laid my hands on from my wardrobe, pulled on some shoes, and
dashed out of my bedroom. I grabbed my keys from the table next to the
front door and jotted a quick note for Lance on the pad that I kept
there. Running out of the apartment, I slammed the door noisily and pressed
the button for the elevator at least twenty times before the doors finally
opened.
***
"I don't want to talk. I just want out!" JC shouted through the door. I
banged my fist on the wall in frustration and shivered in the cold of the
night.
"You know you don't mean that JC!" I yelled in response.
"Yes. Yes I do. I won't work with him! I wont work with a queer!" He
shouted, causing me to wince at his attitude.
"Fine!" I sighed loudly, thinking that if I at least got access to the
house I would be in a better position than I was in now. "You can quit, if
you want. You know you'll have to sign a hell of a lot of
documents... contract waivers and stuff like that." I almost fell into his
house as he opened the door that I was leaning on. I regained my balance
and followed a tired looking JC into an office of sorts. He sat behind a
table covered in screwed up bits of paper and coffee stains. He then
motioned for me to sit opposite him.
"So, where are these papers then? I want to get this over and done with."
JC said eagerly.
"Papers? Oh, you mean the contract waivers? They're all on a computer hard
drive somewhere in the Jive compound." I answered smugly. JC simply shook
his head. I didn't pause long enough for him to kick me out, "Do you really
want to do this? After all the work you've put in, all the friendships
you've created and all the sacrifices you've had to make? Do you really
want to give up on it all, just because you have a problem with Lance?" I
questioned.
He was silent for a long time, minutes passed and neither of us said a
word. I didn't care how long it took, I wouldn't let him quit. Not because
of this.
"No." he eventually whispered. "I don't want to leave the band Alex." He
stated, his eyes glistening with unshed tears.
"Then what do you want?" I asked gently.
"I... I want Lance to leave the band." He said, barely audible, as the
first tear ran down his cheek and dripped from his chin. That response
caught me off guard, but I tried to think logically.
"You can't force him to leave JC. Not just because of all the moral issues
but also because it has to be a mutual decision between the four other band
members and management has be in accordance." I argued. We were plunged
into silence once more as JC reflected on my remark.
"Then no one leaves." He said. It was directed more at himself than me. I
nodded in response and tried to mask my sigh of relief as he said those
four simple words. He looked me in eyes; I noticed that his tears, that had
once stopped, were attempting to return. "But I don't think I'll be able to
work with him." I stood and walked towards the door.
I then turned back to him, "Try JC, just try."
***
Four members of *NSYNC and I were standing in the Jive compound car park.
They were interacting well, and seemed to have accepted Lance and his
'news', even Joey who I had not seen since the meeting on Monday appeared
to be totally comfortable around him. Chris was currently teasing Justin
about something or other, causing Joey to laugh hysterically.
"Alex!" Lance's voice snapped me out of my day dream. "He's not coming is
he?" he whispered dejected.
"No, I don't think he is." I shook my head. "Give him time Lance." I
squeezed his shoulder in support and then called the others to
attention. They huddled around me, as though I was their coach and they
were about to go out and play baseball. "I hate to have to do this," I
began, "but it looks like JC isn't coming, as far as you are concerned he's
ill... uh... something simple like the flu and he'll be fine in a few days
time." They looked on with confusion etched onto their faces; Lance
appeared to be severely downhearted.
"Why are we lying for him?" Justin's voice sounded innocent, childlike.
"Its better that the reporter thinks that he's ill and will be fine soon
rather than her thinking you've fallen out, and that there's a rift in the
group." I explained.
"And that we might break up..." Lance croaked out.
"No, No. Nothing that serious, it won't come to that." I corrected him
while Chris gave him a one armed hug, although Lance had just aired my
worst fear.
"So when's the Brit getting here?" Joey asked, changing the subject.
"Any time now" was my reply. Just as I was checking my watch, a black
saloon pulled through the front gates and stopped along side us. The woman
inside wound down the window and extended her hand for me to shake.
"Hi! Tracey Shaw. Pleased to meet you Mr. Michaels." She greeted me in a
distinctly British accent. I accepted her hand and returned her smile. She
drove her car to the nearest empty space and then hurried back towards us,
grabbing her handbag and what looked like a Dictaphone from the passenger
seat.
"Not bad looking for an English girl." Joey observed while she was still
out of earshot.
"Hey! I'm Tracey from Smash Hits magazine in the UK and you must be
*NSYNC." She bubbled, offering her hand to each of the guys. I laughed and
Justin rolled his eyes when, instead of shaking it, Joey took her hand and
kissed it lightly. "Uh... either I need to get my vision checked or one of
you is missing. There are five of you, aren't there?" she asked the
inevitable question.
"He's ill." Justin blurted.
"Got the flu." Chris added.
"That's a shame. Oh well, four is better than none at all." Tracey grinned
happily, causing the guys and myself to breathe a silent sigh of
relief. The guys led her towards their cars, parked in the covered VIP
spaces. Chris straggled behind and walked with me. When we reached his car
he pulled a file out of the trunk and handed it to me.
"It's the accounts for FuMan. I hope you don't mind. I thought you might
want to read over them first and then we could... um... maybe get together
and discuss them?" He asked hesitantly.
"Sure thing. How about you come over on Friday, after the MTV interview,
I'll have had a chance to look through them by then." I offered,
"Yeah, thanks. I forgot about that interview. We don't have to fly up to
New York do we?" He asked.
"No. They're building a mini-set in one of the studios here in the
compound."
"That was well planned." He praised me. He slid into the driver's side of
his black Mercedes M class. "You gettin' in or what?" He grinned. I nodded
and sat in the seat next to him. He revved the engine and pulled out of the
space, closely following Lance's 4 runner.
***
"Are you sure you don't mind?" Lance asked for what must've been the fifth
time.
"No. I don't mind, now would you quit asking that, it's beginning to annoy
me. You can stay here as long as you want Lance." I responded, slightly
agitated.
"Thanks." He blushed slightly. I smiled at his shyness. "Do you want me to
cook us dinner?" He asked. "It's the least I can do."
"Um... if you really want to... but don't feel obliged or anything." I
replied awkwardly.
"Ok, garlic chicken it is." He smiled.
"How do you even know I have any chicken?" I grinned.
"Everyone has chicken, even if it's frozen; besides your toothy smile gives
it away." He giggled.
"Why don't you get started and I'll take that and put it in your room." I
said, pointing at the sports bag he was carrying.
"Thanks Alex, you know I really..."
"Appreciate it." I finished for him. I grabbed the bag, which was
surprisingly heavy considering its size, and took it into my guest room. By
some twist of fate our day out with Tracey, the English reporter, had ended
in Lance's house. She had left reasonably early, leaving the five of us to
our own devices. Chris and Joey had decided that they were going clubbing
tonight and so they left soon after Tracey to get ready. Justin, Lance and
I had chatted for about an hour until we broached the subject of JC. Our
discussion ended in Lance breaking down again.
Once we had cheered him up, to both mine and Justin's surprise he had asked
me, if I would mind him staying at my apartment. Justin hid how offended he
was well, but I could see through it. I found it strange that he would want
to stay with me, over Justin whom he had known for years, but I agreed to
let him stay, after all, I enjoy the company.
I placed the sports bag, containing all of Lance's stuff, on the bed. I
then returned to the kitchen where I found Lance chopping up some
vegetables. "Anything I can do to help?" I asked.
"No, you sit." He directed me to a chair and placed a bottle of Budweiser
in front of me. After he had taken care of me, he left the kitchen. Soon, I
heard the lyrics to a Pink song resonate throughout my apartment; he must
have turned it up quite high because it was at 'club level' in the kitchen,
so I hate to think how loud it was in the lounge.
"My neighbors will hate you!" I yelled over the music. Lance danced back
into the kitchen and began to toss the chicken in the frying pan. I admired
Lance's body when his back was turned. His jumping around was causing his
t-shirt to ride up, exposing his lower back, I could see a faint tan line
just above the waistband of his underwear. Lance's tight jeans left nothing
to the imagination. The curve of his ass was perfect, only interrupted by
the ridge of his Calvin Kleins at the top of his thighs. Boxer-briefs,
cute. Lance's singing brought my thoughts to a halt. He was obviously not
even trying to remain in tune, that and his goofy dance moves caused me to
giggle loudly. "Don't give up your day job!" I shouted to be heard.
"This is my day job!" he grinned at me, pulling me to my feet. He began to
dance in a circle around me.
"Maybe you should reconsider!" came my response. I started to dance with
him around the kitchen, preparing the food as we went. It probably didn't
do the chicken any good, but we enjoyed it.
***
The next morning I had to leave the apartment early as it was my first, in
a long line of meetings with the Jive executives. Although I had had
meetings with the execs before, it had always been with two or three of
them, and never all of them, which made me nervous. Despite this, the
meeting went well, they had said that they were impressed with my work and
commended me on the way I had dealt with the problems I had
encountered. Johnny had obviously not mentioned the 'JC wanting to quit'
incident as it never came up in our conversation. A basic overview would be
that they wanted to make more money from *NSYNC, and were glad they chose
me for the job because they need someone competent to organize a world-tour
of sorts. They had explained that the album the guys were working on would
remain a top priority right until the guys left for Germany in six weeks
time. Tickets would go on sale at the beginning of next week, and I would
need to organize a press conference to announce the news to the world.
The only concern I had had was that it was a bit short notice. The
executives weren't worried though, they said that they were sure that each
date would be sold out in two weeks time anyway and the guys would have a
week in Germany to rehearse before the first concert. I was still dubious,
but could see that they were convinced that this was the right thing to do.
During the afternoon I began to sort out the press conference for next
Monday. The work was mainly drawing up a basic contract that each member
of the press would have to sign, and then I had to start phoning around all
of the major magazines, radio stations and television music channels. I
also e-mailed and faxed nearly every contact that I had inherited from my
predecessor. All the while I tried to keep the fact that I had only six
weeks to plan a tour spanning America, most of Western Europe and Asia out
of my mind.
While I was feverishly writing, typing and everything else Lance was
sitting in one of my arm chairs watching TV and eating chips - it was
alright for some! At one point in the afternoon I took a break for half an
hour or so and joined Lance in watching a repeat of an episode of The
Simpsons, it was on old one, but still pretty funny.
After that I decided I should take a look at the file that Chris had given
me the day before. It was exactly what I was expecting, cash flow
breakdowns and forecasts, several breakeven charts, balance sheets, and
profit/loss tables for the past few quarters. Each one of these items gave
a very similar message, up until about five months ago FuMan Skeeto had
been performing well and then it had suddenly had a change of fortune. I
began to take notes and make calculations, about an hour into my
investigation I made a startling discovery.
At the end of December each member of staff had received a rather generous
Christmas bonus - nothing strange about that. However, each bonus had been
paid into a different bank account from the employee's salary. This had
been followed by similar bonuses in January and February. These over
generous employee incentives led to the business not having enough
operating capital to pay all of its suppliers and so it went into over
draught. The unexpected interest repayments had crippled the company.
It appeared to me that Chris had acquired a money laundering accountant at
some point. I phoned him with the news, he was surprised but said he get
right on it. He thanked me profusely and asked me if I would mind going
over the accounts with him tomorrow to show him how I had come to that
conclusion. I agreed and bid him good night. When I checked the time I
found that it was indeed getting late and I found that I was starting to
get hungry.
I wondered out to the lounge where I found Lance chatting to someone on his
cell phone. I sat opposite him and waited for him to finish his call. He
grinned at me several times, from the one side of the conversation that I
could hear it was evident that he was talking about me. Eventually he took
the cell phone away from his ear and pressed the 'end' button.
"That was Brian" he said.
"Brian? Do I know a Brian?" I asked, confused.
"Well you might not know him but you must have heard of him... you know...
Brian Littrell..." He clarified.
"Oh, from the Backstreet Boys. So, you talk to them often?" I asked.
"Sure I do." He said. All of a sudden his mood changed; his smile faded, it
saddened me to see him so down. "Remember, when I told you about mine and
Justin's visit, when we joined them on tour for two weeks?" He asked.
"Of course I do."
"Well I didn't only... uh... make friends with Nick. I got close to all of
them, we have a lot in common, I guess."
"Its good that you have people to talk to with a similar perspective" I
tried to cheer him up.
"But they don't know..." My effort fell flat on its face.
"How about dinner?" I changed the subject. "It's my turn to cook."
"Ok then. Can we dance like last night?" He asked, his eyes brightening at
the thought. I didn't really want to disappoint him, so I agreed.
"Sure we can dance, but I get to choose the music." I agreed, but he eyed
me suspiciously. "What?"
"Choose something without swearing in it... I don't like those kind of
songs."
"Will do!" I saluted. He laughed and then retreated to his bedroom, leaving
me to get on with the meal. I decided to do some steaks, jacket potatoes
and some stir fry vegetables; I was inspired by the jar of sweet 'n sour
sauce that I found in the cupboard.
Once I had the oven warming up and a wok prepared I went to my CD
collection and picked something. I laughed at my choice and popped it in. I
turned the volume down slightly from last night and pressed the play
button. The music must have attracted Lance's attention as several minutes
later the volume increased dramatically. I shook my head and poured some
oil into the wok.
"What the heck is this?" Lance shouted from behind me.
"'Disco Classics'. You said you wanted to dance!" I laughed. He shook his
head in amusement and opened the refrigerator. He handed me a beer, and in
return I gave him a bottle opener. After we had both taken a swig from our
bottles, Lance assisted me in sliding the oven tray with the steaks on
under the grill. He then began to jump around the kitchen and sing along to
the music as he had last night. I followed him in his maniacal dance
moves. By the time the meal was ready to eat we both had tears of laughter
streaming down our cheeks.
"More beer, or do want to open a bottle of wine?" I asked Lance.
"What did you say?" He screamed over the music. I signaled for him to say
where he was and went to turn down the music. While I was there I decided
we should go for something more relaxed over dinner. I selected
'Beethoven's Symphonies' and loaded the first three CDs into the changer.
"What happened to our music?" Lance asked as I sauntered back into the
kitchen.
"I opted for something a little more classical" I smiled as the first
chords echoed throughout the apartment.
"Good choice." He complimented.
"Thanks, now do you want wine or more beer?" I asked again.
"Uh... wine. I saw an Australian white in the fridge. Can we have that? I
like it as cold as possible." He asked shyly.
"Of course you open that, and I'll dish out the dinner." I instructed, and
that was exactly what we did. We ate the meal together and shared stories
of our past, I was glad that Lance could be himself at last, even if was
just around me, being comfortable around others would come with time. We
messed around with the soap suds during the washing up, it starting with
Lance dabbing my nose, leaving a small blob. Of course, I couldn't resist
flicking some in his face as well; this resulted in an all out war.
Lance and I were both slightly damp and decided to call it a day after we
accidentally smashed a glass. We sat back down at the table and continued
our conversation.
"So what happened in that meeting this morning?" Lance was genuinely
interested, despite looking slightly uncomfortable in his wet shirt. I had
changed and offered him some of my clothes but he had declined the offer.
"Oh, well I was going to tell you as a group, but since you asked... You're
going on tour."
"Uh, no, we're recording an album." He said sarcastically.
"Nope." I shook my head childishly "You're going on a sort of mini-world
tour"
"Mini?"
"It's only 15 dates. But it's in six weeks time..." I explained
"Six weeks!" He explained. "Is that even possible?"
"I'm not sure, but I've decided that I'm going to do all the fun stuff
first." I giggled, the alcohol beginning to affect me.
"There's fun stuff?" He was surprised.
"Of course - costume, stage design, hiring dancers, booking the most
expensive hotel rooms I possibly can." I counted them off on my fingers.
"You're kidding right?"
"About the hotel rooms? You probably already have the most expensive rooms
anyway and you just don't realize it." I laughed.
"No, I meant about the costume design." He giggled along with me, perhaps
mixing the wine and the beer wasn't a very good idea.
"Well yeah, I was kidding about that, frankly I don't have a clue about
stage costume. Although... I will need to plan out the set, roughly at
least, so that I can price it... and so that I can coordinate getting it
from country to country."
"Have you got any ideas?" He asked, intrigued.
"I was thinking that we should have at least six screens, to position
around the venue - some of the crowds are going to be nearly a hundred
thousand and we want them all to have a good view..."
"Right..." he agreed.
"So for the set, I was thinking..." I moved around to his side of the table
and cleared some space on it. "...maybe we could have a few sections of the
stage that rise up." I moved a few glasses into the space, explaining that
were the 'riser' sections. "That way we can have a sort of mini version of
the set you used in 'Pop'."
"That's cool... but we'll need some space in the middle." He moved the
glasses apart. "So that we can get the baby-grand on."
"Ok. And also I think maybe a bit of stage jutting out into the audience
would be good." I motioned towards us with my hands.
"Good idea. Will we be doing any aerial acrobatics?" He suggested.
"Of course. You know how the Backstreet Boys 'air surf' onto the
stage... well you are going to go one better... you're going to do some
'air kayaking'." I grinned. He pushed me playfully.
"Don't be stupid!" He laughed, I pouted and rubbed my shoulder where he had
made contact.
"Ow!" I said childishly. "How about you go upwards? Like do a superman
style takeoff from the stage?" I stood and moved a pepper shaker into the
center of the table and then held it in mid air.
"Joey would like that."
"Obviously there'll need to be a platform by here." I gestured, "And
they'll be spotlights, all around" I waved my arms wildly and Lance began
to laugh uncontrollably. "What?" I stopped my actions and looked at him.
"You're being a little... uh... over-enthusiastic with your arm movements."
He giggled.
"Oh." I said simply as I sat back down. "So anyway, I was also thinking
about..." I stopped when Lance's expression changed dramatically. I then
glanced down to my hand and saw that it was now resting on his thigh. "As I
was saying..." I said quickly as I pulled my hand back, only to see him
grab my hand and put it back where it was.
"Don't move it. I like it."
I must've looked at him with a very strange expression, with my eyebrows
raised to well above my hairline, just like on a cartoon.
"Oh shit..." He exclaimed, releasing my trapped hand. "I'm so sorry... I
can't believe I said that... I can't believe I just did that." He babbled
"Can you forgive me? I honestly didn't mean to do it." He was now blushing
and fresh tears were welling up in his eyes.
"It's alright Lance, you're forgiven." I smiled warmly.
"Really?" He sniffed. "Just like that?"
"Yeah, just like that."
"Why?" He whispered, as though he was afraid of the answer.
"Because... I'm gay too Lance." I said truthfully.
"You're what?" He screamed, scrambling up from his chair.
"I'm gay Lance." I said again. He backed away from me, through the archway
and out of the kitchen. I stood and followed him into the lounge.
"No. No. Get away from me..." He cried, tears streaming down his face. He
eventually backed into the front door of the apartment and turned the knob.
"Leave me alone, you self-serving prick!" He screeched and ran out of the
door, slamming it behind him.
***
End of Chapter 6
***
Phew! That was a long one (for me at least). I really hope I'm doing the
plot justice with my writing skills, sometimes I find my imagination
running away from me, and I have to stop myself and think 'No! You have to
write now! Don't get ahead of yourself!' (Yes, I really am that weird)
Now, in a desperate attempt to get more feedback, I thought I'd reiterate
that you can e-mail any comments or questions to
mystories@btinternet.com. Thanks to everyone who has already mailed me,
especially for the repeat e-mails.
Also, in regards to the Justin/Britney split (maybe), I don't think it will
be mentioned in the story, mainly because I've already written that they
are together and this is set slightly into the future. It would kind of
mess things up, to break them up at this point... it would also lead to far
too much depression in one story line, so for the time being, they are
together for the purpose of the story.
Lance's space adventure won't really fit in with the storyline either,
since it apparently requires 6 months of training. That would really make
for a crazy plot twist, "I'm gay," "I'm gay too," "Great, now I'm going off
to space camp." This means that I've decided that I'm going to
send... oh... um... how about an astronaut, into space, rather than a pop
star.
Thanks again for the feedback, more coming soon, Tris.